Jace walked over to the couch and dropped down on it, his long legs needing to bend so they didn’t hit the coffee table. “I didn’t articulate myself very well the other day.”
She took a seat on one of the chairs on the other side of the table. “Okay.”
Jace dug into his pocket and pulled out a note—it looked like it had been folded and unfolded several times. The edges were bent, and there were crumple marks all over it. He drummed his fingers against his leg. That little sign made her relax—because it meant this at-ease exterior was simply that: a front. He was as nervous as she was.
“I wrote down what I wanted to say because I thought it might go better, since…well, you know,” he said. Then he cleared his throat. “The marriage proposal wasn’t only about helping you stay, because I know that if you were only looking for a piece of paper, you could have found that anywhere. The thought of you leaving makes me really sad. In fact, there’s not a single reason in the pro column.”
“Did you actually write a list of pros and cons about me leaving?” For some reason, that made her heart melt.
“Yeah, I did. And they were all cons.” He looked so sincere, it made her want to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him silly. “If this were any normal situation, I wouldn’t be proposing now. That’s not romantic, but it’s the truth. However, this isn’t a normal situation and I’ve been viewing marriage for a long time tainted by something that shouldn’t have tainted it. So if the only way that we get to explore this thing between us is for me to propose, then I want to do it. Because not having that chance to see where it goes is too high a price to pay.”
“Wow,” she breathed. “I was not expecting that.”
“I wasn’t, either. But if I put my logical cap on—”
“When did it ever come off?” She laughed.
“If I put my logical cap on,” he repeated, ignoring her dig, “why not try? You have forty days remaining on your visa, right?”
“Forty-two, actually.” Not that she was counting down every single second or anything.
“Why don’t we trial it for a month? We’ll get engaged, and we’ve got thirty days to see if it’s working. If not, then you have almost two weeks to say goodbye and get everything in order.”
Some part of her had thought that in the cold light of reality—rather than the rose-tinted post-sex haze—Jace would change his mind about his offer. Instead, he was here, asking her to reconsider. Showing he’d put a lot of thought into it. It wasn’t romantic, sure. But it was Jace, through and through.
“Angie.” He stood and walked around the coffee table to her, reaching down to her hands and pulling her up to standing. “I was too afraid to admit it before, because I let my own insecurities and fears get the better of me. But being with you…it meant I couldn’t ignore how I felt anymore.”
“I couldn’t ignore it anymore, either,” she said.
“But?”
This was the time to be honest with him. He’d taken a leap, showed his cards, and laid everything on the table. She had to do the same. “I’m scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“That you’re going to regret asking me to marry you. That you’re going to wake up in a month and think that what you thought you wanted—peace and quiet and solitude—is actually what you want.”
That he would change his mind, like he’d done before.
And that would be like experiencing foster care all over again. The hopes dashed when inevitably people found her too difficult. Angie had tried so damn hard, but eventually the facade of the “perfect girl” was too difficult to keep up. She’d slip, let her imperfections show. Let the real Angie show. And that’s when she’d find herself packing her bags, unwanted and unloved again.
Maybe she’d been chasing that mythical passionate “big” love because it wasn’t real…and therefore she couldn’t get hurt. But this thing with Jace, whatever it was, was fragile and delicate and honest.
And that scared the crap out of her.
You can make it work. You want this, and you want him. Everything you asked for is staring you right in the face, but you’re too chickenshit to take it!
“I can’t remember the last time I was so happy as the other morning when I had you and those two funny dogs all piled on the bed with me.” He squeezed her hands. “It’s the opposite of everything I thought I wanted. So let’s try. Let’s see where this goes.”
“I never thought you’d be the kind of man to jump into something and ‘see how it goes.’ Don’t you plan everything out?” She cocked her head, wondering if she pinched herself, she would wake up and be cuddling her pillow.
“I have planned everything out,” he said. “We need to submit a Notice of Intended Marriage form to the Victorian Marriage Registry at least one month before the intended wedding date along with our birth certificates and IDs. Then we could get married at the registry office so we can put your application in for a spousal visa, and then we can have a non-legal ceremony with all the trimmings at whatever point we want.”
Of course he’d done the research.
She laughed, shaking her head in wonder. “This is nuts.”
“It was your idea,” he pointed out.
“And I honestly wasn’t sure I’d ever pull it off.”
“Does that mean you don’t want to take your chance with some other eligible Patterson’s Bluff bachelor?” His tone was joking, but there was something serious and vulnerable glimmering in his eyes.
“No, I don’t. Not even a little bit.” She swallowed against the lump in the back of her throat. “The only reason you weren’t on my list was because of the conversation we had when I first found out about the mistake with my visa extension. You made it clear what you thought of marriage.”
“That was the only reason?”
She nodded. “Otherwise you would have been the entire list.”
“Well, now that it’s settled…” He dropped down to one knee and pulled a small box from his pocket. It was old and worn; the pretty blue flocking was totally rubbed off in patches. Inside was a small gold ring with a subtle pattern engraved on the band and a small but sparkly diamond in the center. “Angie Donovan, will you agree to a thirty-day trial engagement?”
Despite the warning prickle of tears in her eyes, she laughed. “Do I need to read a terms and conditions document before I accept?”
He frowned. “I didn’t think of that.”
“I trust you,” she said. Jace was one of the only people she’d told about her past; he knew more of her real life than anyone. If that wasn’t a sign he was special, then she didn’t know what was. “And yes, I agree to a thirty-day trial engagement.”
“I know the ring isn’t much, but it belonged to my great-grandmother. If you want something different—”
“Stop.” She shook her head, finding herself feeling a little overwhelmed. “I never had a family, so I never had heirlooms or history or anything like that. Which makes this the most perfect thing you could have given me.”
He took her hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. It was a little snug, but Angie took that as a good sign. It was like the ring wanted to stay there.
“Thank you, Jace.”
“For being the kind of guy who writes a list of pros and cons before proposing?” he teased.
“For being willing to be more.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Jace woke slowly, blinking at the bright sunshine streaming in through his window and the unfamiliar sound of someone pottering in his kitchen. Usually when he woke, the house was silent and dark, but for some reason…
He glanced at his alarm clock. Nine thirty? He was usually up for hours by now. Given it was a Saturday, the beach would be horrendously busy already and that was not how he liked to surf.
But he couldn’t even feel grumpy about it—he was sti
ll reveling in the happiness from last night. After he’d proposed, they’d decided to celebrate with wine on the deck and a simple dinner of barbecued salmon and vegetables. The dogs had played in the yard, and they’d stayed outside in the balmy evening air until the sky turned from blue to orange to star-speckled navy. Eventually they’d fallen into bed, limbs entwined and mouths connected, and made love until God only knew when.
There was a thump on the other side of the wall, followed by what sounded like a curse and the excited yipping of Truffle the Troublemaker. A few seconds later, there was a soft knock at his door.
“Come in,” Jace said. “And, for the record, if you’re going to be staying here, you don’t need to ask permission to come in the bedroom.”
The door eased open slowly, and the two dogs bolted past Angie, who was moving slowly thanks to the tray balanced in her hands. Or rather…the cutting board?
“I wanted to make you breakfast in bed, but I couldn’t find a good tray anywhere.” She beamed as she came over to him, carefully setting the board down on the bed.
A plate was full to bursting with bacon, eggs, and toast. In a small dish was some precisely cubed apple and melon, a dollop of yogurt, and a full mug of coffee with a jug of milk on the side. It was easily enough to feed an entire footy team.
“I hope you’re going to help me finish all this,” he said in bewilderment. Usually, his breakfast was plain porridge, and that was after he’d worked up an appetite on the waves.
“Oh, I don’t usually eat breakfast.” She shooed the dogs away from the food. “But I’ll sit with you after I’ve cleaned up in the kitchen.”
“This is really sweet, Angie. But I don’t expect you to make me breakfast in the morning.” He caught her wrist.
“I know.” She nodded. “It just…well, it’s our first morning as an engaged couple, and I wanted to do something special.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it.”
Her smile returned, and she bounded out of the room, the clanging in the kitchen resuming a moment later. Truffle and Tilly were on his bed, all two sets of canine eyes trained intently on the feast. He’d made it a rule not to feed the dogs from his own plate, not wanting to send them back to Eugenie with any bad habits they didn’t already possess. But this morning would have to be an exception.
As nice as it looked, the smell turned his stomach a little. He wasn’t used to eating as soon as he woke, but he also didn’t want to disappoint Angie. He’d learned that lesson the hard way with Julia—sometimes it was better to do what was expected.
He picked up a piece of bacon and bit down on it. The dogs’ staring intensified.
Feeling more than a little guilty, he made the dogs get off the bed and told them to sit. Then he fed them each a piece of bacon, which they wolfed down in less than a second.
“You like that, huh?” he said softly.
Truffle jumped up against the bed, his paws slapping down on the side of the mattress.
“No. Down.” The little dog obeyed, and then he gave them each a bit more bacon.
He forced himself to eat a piece of toast with some of the scrambled eggs, and then he hid some of the bacon under the other piece of toast. He’d have to make sure he was the one to throw it out, so it looked like he’d eaten more than he had. No way was he going to hurt Angie’s feelings on day one of their trial engagement.
By the time he’d spent an appropriate amount of time feeding the dogs and rearranging his plate, Angie was done with the cleanup. Jace got out of bed and walked into the kitchen, plate in hand and dogs trailing after him like he was the Pied Piper.
“Wow.” The kitchen was sparkling. Not that Jace was a messy kinda guy—not at all. But Angie had taken the cleaning to a new level. “I can see my own face in the backsplash.”
“It’s nothing.” She wiped her hands on a tea towel. “Too much food?”
“It was amazing.” He planted a kiss on her head and stealthily moved past her before she could see the mushrooms and extra bacon hiding under the remaining piece of toast. “I guess I was still a bit full from all that salmon last night.”
He scraped the leftover food into the bin and quickly closed the lid.
“It was delicious. You’re a great cook,” she said. “Who taught you?”
“Both my parents are good in the kitchen, so I learned from them. Then when I moved in here, I wanted to be independent and I didn’t have a lot of money at the time, so takeout wasn’t a regular thing. Necessity breeds skill, I guess.”
“This is your grandparents’ house, right?” She leaned against the bench and reached for a mug of coffee.
In the bright morning light, Angie looked incredibly beautiful. She had on a loose white shirt that billowed around her slender body and a pair of denim shorts that exposed her long tanned legs. They’d spent the night exploring each other more slowly, like they were taking the time to indulge. To learn each other. But he was still hungry for her. Still found lust drilling into his bones and tightening his senses.
He couldn’t get enough.
He nodded. “They’d lived here ever since we were kids. Back then we were closer to Melbourne, but we came here as a family when I started high school. I ended up moving in the flat you’re staying in when I was seventeen.”
“How come?”
It seemed silly now, looking back at it. But at the time it had felt like the most necessary thing in his life. “I needed to get out of the house. I was sharing a room with Trent, and he was driving me bananas. There was no privacy, and it was loud all the time. I couldn’t be myself.”
The light bounced off her eyes, highlighting the rich golden-brown tones. They crinkled ever so slightly when she smiled. “And your grandparents let you use it?”
“Yep. The place had been empty for a few years, after my great-grandmother passed away. When I confessed I was having a hard time at home, they offered to take me in.” He remembered how hurt his parents had looked when they found out he wanted to move out—but they’d understood. They’d probably figured he’d never move out, given how much he struggled with a change in his environment. But that’s how badly he wanted his own space. “I was pretty responsible with school and homework, so they didn’t worry about that. The first night I moved in there, I felt so…free.”
Something flickered across Angie’s face, but it was gone before Jace could decipher it. “What made you decide to rent it out?”
“It’s a good supplement to my comic income. At least, it was at the time.”
His income had grown steadier with Hermit vs. World amassing a hungry and loyal fan base. As with any creative job, there were drier spells. But if he signed a contract with the syndication company…well, he wouldn’t have to worry about money at all.
“That’s great. Not many people can make that sort of thing successful.”
He nodded. “I’m very fortunate.”
“No, you’re very talented,” she corrected.
Silence set between them a little awkwardly. It was like something had shifted since his proposal yesterday, but he wasn’t sure what exactly had changed. It seemed like they could communicate perfectly fine in bed. There, they were in sync. In tune. But here in his exceptionally clean kitchen, his stomach protesting the heavy breakfast, something felt…off.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
“Of course. Why would you ask that?” There was a flash of mild panic on her face, but she pasted a pretty smile over the top.
These were the times Jace doubted himself—doubted what he was reading in other people, doubted that he could trust his own intuition about his relationships.
It’s just nerves about the whole marriage thing. Your life kind of changed overnight, so no wonder you’re feeling a bit off-kilter.
But the mental pep talk didn’t help.
“Why don’t we go for a drive?” he
suggested. “We can take the dogs, head along the coast, and get some fresh air. If you put some bathers on, then we can find a spot quiet enough to have a dip.”
“I thought you hated going to the beach on the weekend?”
“I don’t like crowds,” he replied. “But we can get out of town, head over to the bay side, and find somewhere nice.”
“Only if you want to,” she said. But Jace could tell Angie did want it—though why she didn’t come out and say that was beyond him.
Clearly, he still had a long way to go in navigating communications and relationships.
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t want to do it.” He offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Come on, let’s get changed and grab the dogs.”
…
Angie couldn’t shake the weird cocktail of feelings brewing inside her. She had this overwhelming sense that she was going to mess things up with Jace—that she’d do the wrong thing or say the wrong thing and he’d end up regretting his decision to propose.
His car whipped along the Nepean Highway, skirting the edge of Port Phillip Bay, with the windows down and wind rustling their hair. Truffle and Tilly were in the back—Tilly laying across the seat and Truffle in his padded booster so he could see out the window and avoid getting car sick. The weather was perfect—not too hot, not too cool, sunny with fluffy marshmallow clouds. A Goldilocks day.
But Angie’s thoughts were like an itch that couldn’t be scratched. She’d been here before—new opportunities, new promises so fragile, she was sure they had to be broken. History had made her wary of being excited in the face of something that seemed too good to be true. And this did.
She glanced over at Jace, who had a pair of wraparound sporty sunglasses covering his eyes. The sun hit his profile in the most spectacular way—highlighting his strong jaw and nose, bouncing off the golden hairs dusting his forearms, and making his skin look bronzed and smooth.
“I can feel you staring at me,” he said without taking his eyes off the road.
“Just admiring the view,” she quipped. Nestling back into her seat, she tore her gaze away and tried to relax.
The Aussie Next Door Page 22
